


Absolutely the Doctor

by frogfarm



Category: Absolutely Fabulous, Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, Regeneration, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 13:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: Leela knew the Doctor would need her at some point. Regeneration is one of those times.Post-"The Invasion of Time". Leela POV.AbFab 'crossover'? Sort of. Close enough.





	Absolutely the Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> > "You may be a doctor, but I’m _the_ Doctor. The definite article, you might say."

The Doctor lies unconscious on the floor, his limp hand clutched within her own. The powerful radiation he had been forced to absorb had killed him, just as he predicted, and now he lies on the brink of death as Leela wills herself to be unafraid, strives to remember his words. It will be odd, seeing a new face on the man she has come to know, and he may be somewhat disoriented for a time, but when the Doctor is himself once more he will most definitely be glad she did not succumb to Andred's lovely eyes. Though truly, if she had remained on Gallifrey she would have likely chosen to live with Nesbin and the rest of the Outsiders, in many ways much like her own people. Though she would have missed the Lady Rodan's company. And who could fault K-9 for choosing to stay with such a woman...

Her attention is drawn back to the body lying on the floor. It begins to shimmer and blur, each individual cell seemingly vibrating faster than the wings of the tiniest insect. The Doctor has shown Leela her own cells, under a microscope. Now his are regenerating, drawing upon hidden genetic reserves to repair and rebuild him in some strange new image.

The vibration ceases. Eyes flutter open, pale blue surrounded by long brown curls with hints of red.

The Doctor blinks, sits up and examines her scarf, turning to Leela with a puzzled frown.

"Oh sweetie, thank God, I've got the worst migraine. Be a dear and get Mummy a fag, would you?"

  


* * *

  


Despite Leela's best efforts to take these events in stride, she's finding the most difficult part to be keeping up. After the initial lethargy, the Doctor had sprung to her feet and begun quickly striding down the corridor, staring about her with frightened eyes as though the ship were some wild animal that had devoured them whole.

"Doctor, what is wrong?"

"Ugh." The Doctor clutches her head. "Just...the Dom and the spoon, darling, the Dom and the spoon, are you quite sure --"

"There are no 'fags' on the TARDIS." Leela delivers this with folded arms in an attempt to look cross, relenting at the stricken look on the other woman's face.

"The Doctor does have a smoking pipe in his desk." She frowns in recollection. "But I have never seen him actually set fire to it."

Pitiful expression turns once more to puzzlement. "I thought you said I was the Doctor."

Leela arches one eyebrow. "Are you?"

"I don't know!" The distressed cry echoes down the corridors of the TARDIS. "I mean really, sweetie, what is this, some sort of vibrator? Why else would I keep it in my bloody pocket? And this hat, my God, Indiana Jones wouldn't be caught dead robbing a temple in this thing, it's a fashion disaster and you're not even listening to me, darling --"

"You are not making any sense." Leela pronounces this with perfect certainty. "There is nothing to listen to."

"Yes, well, two can play that game can't they sweetie? I'm the Doctor, so where's my ruddy pill stash, mm? Answer me that, Miss One Million Years Bee Cee --"

"Here." A note of exasperation enters Leela's voice as she shoves her hand into a left-hand overcoat pocket. A squeal of protest emerges, and its wearer shivers as Leela's hand withdraws, bearing a crumpled paper sack.

"What on earth --"

"Here are your jelly babies." Leela tries to look stern again. "Now, will you behave? Until the regeneration process has reached your brain?"

"Hmph." The Doctor chews, wearing a look of deep concentration. "Don't recall you being this quick with a quip."

"There, you see?" Leela doesn't try to hide her smile. "You are starting to remember."

  


* * *

  


Her strange new companion is moving slower but still erratic, falling into the familiar strings of muttering alternated with shouts of discovery. Gradually, her thoughts and memories regain some measure of coherence, leading them to the enormous pool room. The Doctor is taken aback by the architecture but a moment before returning to mumbled calculation of dates and times, and Leela's vaunted reflexes are another crucial moment too late when the Doctor trips on her scarf and falls into the pool. Naturally Leela dives in for the rescue, fishing out her spluttering quarry with an unsuppressed giggle of her own.

"Yes, quite amusing --" The Doctor rolls her eyes as she spits up a bit of water. "Natural consequence of being nearly a foot shorter." 

"You have tripped over it many times." Leela states it like an imperial proclamation, and has to giggle again as she brushes dripping curls from the Doctor's face. She would feel ridiculous, like a blushing youngster, but for the now petulantly protruding lower lip she feels obligated to plant a quick kiss upon. She nearly pulls away, unsure, until the Doctor's hand rises to her shoulder in the barest softness of touch and a small, contented sigh escapes her mouth to be swallowed and answered.

She looks into those pale eyes as they part. "It _is_ you," she whispers.

"In the flesh." The Doctor clears her throat. "So to speak."

Leela ponders this for nearly no time at all. "Then why --"

"Did we never do this before?" The knowing chuckle is a far cry from the earlier spectacle. "Too much a gentleman, I suppose."

Leela bestows a gentle punch on the other woman's shoulder.

"Hmph." The Doctor merely shrugs. Still, the fondness in those eyes reminds Leela of her father. "I suppose I didn't want to deny you the opportunity to find someone on our travels."

"I have found you." Leela leans in for another kiss. "That is more than enough."

"Yes, well --" And the knowing smile bears more than a hint of rueful. "You do still have an awful lot to learn."

"Doctor, you are my elder." Leela keeps her smile as secret as her warrior cunning is capable of. "I have always respected your wisdom."

"And again I say: Hmph. With bells on." The Doctor gives an airy wave of her hand. "Anyway -- time to pick out a new wardrobe. Too bad the Brigadier isn't here to offer his opinion." 

Leela follows along to the so-called master closet and watches, fascinated, as the Doctor flies through a series of increasingly appalling changes before finally settling on a full-waisted long black frock coat with matching pants and cavalry boots, offset by a white shirt with some tasteful decorative lacing one had to look closely even to see. The effect is of a marshal in the old West, or so the Doctor says when they look in the mirror, and the pictures in the encyclopedia bear this out.

"I wonder about the hat, but it's a bit much this early in the relationship -- what's wrong?" The Doctor's concern is plain. "I promise you, nothing will happen to the scarf. Place of honor in my collection, along with the pipe --"

"Oh, it's nothing --" Leela sighs, doing her best to remain stoic. "But I do wish K-9 were here."

"Do you, now?" A twinkle lights the Doctor's eyes as the two of them walk down the corridor, a warm and subtle light pulsing from the walls and ceiling of the TARDIS. "We just might be able to make that wish come true."

Leela brightens, then looks properly suspicious. "With science?"

"What else?"

And the Doctor's laugh is a long and hearty one.

**Author's Note:**

> The particular notion of Jennifer Saunders/Edina Monsoon as the Fourth Doctor has been a minor obsession of mine for some time, even before I learned about Joanna Lumley in The Curse of Fatal Death, and I would whole-heartedly support her in the role. Also, to anyone offended at my crude humor, I can only offer in my defense that I find it utterly in keeping with both characters, and that if the image of Leela sternly uttering those words to Edina Monsoon in this particular context with a completely straight face reducing me to a quivering jelly of mirth is wrong, then I don't wanna be right.


End file.
